


Second to None

by ndnickerson



Category: Nancy Drew - Keene
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/M, Follow-up, On Campus, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 10:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nancy plans to spend the night, and Ned is more than okay with that. Unofficially follows glasheen25's The Second Chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second to None

"Hey," Nancy whispered, as she and Ned paused after an especially deep kiss. They were facing each other, lying on their sides, sprawled across his bed, while outside the rain kept pouring. She ran her fingers through his hair and he played with the hem of his blue shirt, inching it up her thigh.

"Hey," he replied, with a slow smile.

"Think maybe we can go downstairs, join the party?"

"You don't think we're having enough of a party?" He kissed her again, and her arms slid around him, her heart swelling.

"Maybe just a little bit too much of one," she admitted.

"Oh." He pulled his hand away immediately, and Nancy felt a slight pang of regret. "Well, definitely not like this," he decided, looking at the tempting expanse of tanned leg on display.

"'Course not," she told him, eyes sparkling.

After a brief fashion show, often interrupted by yet another makeout session, while pinned against his dresser, snuggled firmly in his arms, and against the door of his room, Nancy and Ned went downstairs together. She tugged at the worn, frayed jeans he had let her borrow, his belt cinched tighter than originally possible at her slender waist. The effect was, if anything, worse than her previous outfit. She reminded herself of nothing so much as a five-year-old dressed in her father's clothes, the hems rolled up to bulky knots at her ankles so she wouldn't trip.

"Ned, look at me," she protested mildly, just before he opened the living room door.

"You look gorgeous," he reassured her, dropping a kiss on the crown of her head before they stepped inside.

Her heart melted a little, anyway.

The first stumbling block was almost immediate. Andy, grinning to himself with the fixed happiness that only spiked punch could bring, greeted Nancy with a hearty, "So, what brings you to Emerson?"

'I realized I made a terrible mistake when I broke up with Ned just to date a series of unfortunate jackasses,' she realized, wasn't quite the glib reply. No wonder Hallmark hadn't made that card yet.

"Oh, is it a case?" Andy glanced between them.

"No," Nancy said, relieved to finally give some answer. "Ned and I..."

"We're taking things slow," he explained, without quite saying what 'things' were involved.

"Right," Andy nodded, then winced, giving it up as a bad idea. "Right. That's good. It's good to see you again, Nancy."

"Good to see you again," Nancy nodded reassuringly, then waited until he was barely out of earshot before turning to Ned. "Is the punch spiked?"

Ned gave her an incredulous look. "Is that a rhetorical question? What, want me to go to the kitchen and find something that isn't as strong as an industrial-strength cleaner?"

"No," Nancy sighed, waving him over. "One can't hurt."

And one didn't hurt. Two didn't either. During the third she realized that if she got drunk, she wouldn't be expected to drive back to Wilder, and the occasional awkwardness between them wasn't enough to convince her that it might not be the best idea. The fourth went down like water, and it was after the fifth that someone turned off the lights and turned on the slow bass-heavy songs. She greeted every one of Ned's frat brothers with a wide smile and a wave and a hope so strong it was almost palpable, that they wouldn't bring up what had happened.

_If we last long enough, it won't have happened._

If I drink enough, it won't have happened.

He seemed to be making up for lost time. Between long drafts of punch and stops to greet his frat brothers, his lips were locked to hers. Talking wasn't on the agenda. As far as he seemed to be concerned, she had answered the major questions already. He had asked and she had answered, instantly, that yes, she would go on a date with him, she wanted to be with him again.

She just wouldn't let herself think about how, if she had allowed herself another moment's deliberation, she probably wouldn't have even come tonight.

"Nan," he murmured into her mouth, boosting her hips up to rest suggestively against his, and she squirmed against him, thinking that this was not slow, this was not slow at all.

Even so, she was still surprised when she found herself back in his room, his hands tugging the belt free around her waist, and the house quiet under them.

"Ned?" she asked uncertainly, propping herself up on her elbows.

"I thought you wouldn't want to sleep in jeans."

"Sleep?" she asked muzzily. "We're going to sleep? 'Cause I can't drive?"

"Yeah," he said, and pulled the belt free, slowly unbuttoned the jeans that were already slung low on her hips. "Nan..."

She smiled happily, her eyes closing, on hearing him call her by that familiar nickname again. "Hmm?"

"Tell me you aren't going to hurt me again," he said, slowly, and the slow impatient tension was building between her thighs as he tugged the jeans down, practically taking her panties with them.

"I don't want to," she said, and sighed, raking her hair back. "God, it's hot. My skin feels like elastic," she said, and giggled.

"You borrowed that shirt."

"You lent it to me," she corrected him, tapping him on the nose.

"And now I want it back."

She mock pouted at him, the tension rising to curl low in her belly as she pulled the shirt off. He leaned forward, tracing his mouth down her neck, index finger curling at the fabric connecting the cups of her bra.

"This too."

"You didn't lend me that," she protested, and shivered when his mouth found hers. He plunged her into a deep, sizzling kiss as his fingers worked at the hooks, and when he loosed it she shrugged it off, tossing it and bringing her arms up to slide around him.

"I need you," he groaned, nipping at her earlobe. He pulled her into his lap, but then he froze, even as he nestled the join of her open legs against his hips.

"You didn't," he whispered, uncertain. "You haven't."

"I haven't," she agreed, trailing kisses just under his jaw as she tugged at the hem of his own shirt. He gently squeezed her nipples between index fingers and thumbs and she rocked against him, moaning.

"Give me this," he whispered roughly, rolling so she was pinned underneath him, his hips pressing rhythmically to hers. "If you love me, give me this."

She blinked, and chuckled a little, but there was very little humor in it. "You... what?"

"I want something you can't take away from me," he murmured, his face against her neck. "I wasn't the first guy you ever kissed, I wasn't the first guy who ever gave you roses or told you that he loved you, and I know you loved other guys before me, and God help me, you will after me, but I want to be the one. I want to be the first one who knows what it feels like to be inside you," and his voice was just louder than breath at the end, her knees parted and his hips pressing firmly against hers, and she closed her eyes, fighting herself.

She and Ned had talked about having sex. She'd always thought he would be her first. But hearing him say it, hearing his quiet and total resignation to her eventual infidelity, made her feel cheap and ashamed. And angry at him, that a few hours into their second chance, he'd try something like this.

"You've got some nerve," she began, flushing angrily, but then he was standing up on his knees, pushing his pants and boxers down, and she couldn't stop staring. She had seen him naked before, but never with the subject so baldly in the air between them.

He leaned down, casually pinning her under him, studying her gaze, and she felt a small shiver work its way down her spine. She and Ned had discussed having sex. That was an entirely different animal than this. He had practically demanded it. That in itself was a thousand times sexier. And he didn't blink as he slowly captured one breast again, rubbing her nipple under his thumb, and she squirmed under him, watching his features subtly change to something approaching amused satisfaction.

She wasn't drunk anymore. She needed to be far drunker for this.

"If you think we're just going to break up, why do this?" she asked, as he plucked at the elastic of her panties.

He didn't meet her eyes. "Because I love you," he said softly. "I always will. And I would have given anything to stop, these past few months." She arched, capturing his hand as he tried to slide her panties off. "And I've heard that when you take a girl's virginity, you're special to her, forever. I just... maybe then you'll feel the same way about me that I do about you."

"Oh, that's all," Nancy said, and her voice was shaking.

"And I think you're beautiful and smart as hell, except when you left me," and they both smiled at that, "and I get hard just thinking about the face you make when you come."

"That has to be the most romantic thing you've ever said to me," she said, and they both laughed, until she pulled his face down to hers, kissing him hard as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

_He's just doing this in case I change my mind tomorrow,_ she thought, and her heart sank.

"What if I said I wanted to wait until we'd been together for six months?" she asked, panting when they stopped.

"I'd say that we've been together six months." He curved his fingers under the fabric, pulling it down until her ass was bare, but still covering the join between her thighs. "And that it won't change anything." His voice dropped to a rasping whisper. "Tell me you haven't thought about it, haven't dreamed about it, haven't touched yourself because you wanted this so bad. Tell me you don't want me to fuck you," and his hips thrust roughly against hers and she gasped. "Tell me you aren't wet for me right now."

"God," she moaned in frustration, untangling her legs from around him so she could pull her panties off. "Ned, you were always my first. Nothing will ever change that."

When she opened her legs to him, still shivering a little from her earlier drenching and the chill in the air, he just gazed at her for a long moment, as though giving her a chance to change her mind, think about it. Just as she had when she slid behind the wheel of her car, she didn't let herself. 

He ran his fingertips down her body in slow, gentle strokes. "You have to tell me if you want to stop," he whispered, and she nodded. "But there's going to be a point when I can't."

"I know."

What happened after that was exquisite torture. He kissed her slowly, squeezing her breasts, fondling her nipples until she planted her heels on the bed, moaning, and pushed her hips against his. She could feel the length of his cock, hard against her inner thigh, and when their hips moved even briefly apart the head of it poked into the soft flesh of her belly, her thigh, or butted against the slightly parted seam of her inner flesh, and she had measured his length and breadth and firmness in curious strokes of her palms, but feeling him this way was much more immediate. He moved down, latching onto a nipple as he traced lazy circles over her inner thigh, traced his fingertip up and down the edge of her lip, and she buried her hands in his hair, closing her eyes in frustration and anticipation as he slowly slid his index finger between her legs, groaning against her breast when he found her wet.

"God," he murmured, letting his face rest between her breasts as he slid in all the way to the knuckle. Then he sucked her other nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue as he pulled back out again. She moaned her protest, then arched as he, with aching slowness, slid it in again, just as deep.

"Don't stop," she begged, grinding her hips against his hand, groaning in shock and need as his thumb slid in between her lips, then out and up in short thrusts, every one a little closer to her clit. "Don't stop, don't stop," she panted, and when his thumb finally reached her clit she froze, every muscle in her body tensed, every nerve gone rigid and sensitive with desire.

He held still, then pulled away from her breast and brought his face back up to hers, his thumb moving in very light, erratic brushes against her clit. He crushed his mouth to hers, deepening his strokes as he mumbled "Touch me" into her mouth. Shaking, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, her other hand finding and wrapping around the base of his cock. She angled it toward her, matching the rhythm his finger was slowly tracing inside her, until they built, together, faster, harder. He slid another finger in, and she rolled her hips against the angle he used to stroke her clit, pumping the base of his cock, bringing her thumb up to circle gently against the head, shivering when she found the first few drops of moisture there.

Then he stopped, pulling his fingers out of her with deliberate slowness, and stood up on his knees. He was shaking and she felt her climax, urgent, grasping, demanding, just on the cusp. It cooled as she watched him reach into his bedside drawer for a condom, knowing that he could not have known she would be coming, knowing that he had been keeping them there all this time even though she had not been here. It cooled as she watched him rip open the package with trembling fingers, roll on the whisper-thin latex, then gaze down at her, holding the head of his cock pressing just between her thighs.

"I love you," he told her, and he didn't wait for her answer as he gently spread her inner flesh and found her, the weight and breadth of him impossible, and she arched, her fingers glancing over his shoulders, his chest, seeking any contact with him as he slid inside her.

"I love you," she gasped, every nerve pulled tight and thin as he brushed her clit again. "I'll scream if you don't touch me," she moaned, and he leaned down, maintaining eye contact with her as his cock gently urged in another inch, and she shuddered around him.

Then he stopped, as she bit her lip, sliding her heels back to angle her hips and allow him deeper access, and a slow, tiny shiver passed over him, through his own hips. "Oh my God," he sighed. "Oh my God." He pressed in another inch and groaned, and when his thumb found its rhythm against her clit again, she gently rolled her hips under his, sucking in a swift breath when his angle changed. "This is the best, fucking, thing I have ever felt, you are the best, fucking, oh my God," he groaned.

"I love you," she whispered, searching his gaze, holding it as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He shuddered. "I can't stop now."

"I don't want you to," she replied, sliding her arms around his neck.

His first actual thrust almost undid her. Even as he fondled her clit, even as she squirmed against it, the sensation of him inside her, filling her, claiming her hurt. He kept his thrusts slow and she thought she was going to die, at every single one of them, the ache intensifying, but it didn't matter because she wanted it. She wanted him.

She had wanted him to claim her, wanted him to seduce her, wanted him to say that she was what he wanted, regardless of anything else. She had wanted this, even while the prospect had utterly terrified her, of being so powerless to him, when she tried her best to never, ever be powerless to anyone.

"Ned," she whimpered, and he cut off her moan with a long, brutal kiss, as he slid his cock a little deeper with his next thrust. She tensed, and he was slightly rougher with his next thrust, moaning in pleasure.

"So tight," he whispered, and massaged her breasts again, her knees sliding up his sides. "You're mine, baby, mine," he gasped, finding his rhythm as he gave her nipple one last tweak, then began to caress her clit again.

"Fuck... oh, oh, Ned, please, oh my God that feels so good," she purred, breathily, letting out another whimper as his next thrust pushed him even deeper, shock waves radiating through her thighs as her clit tingled from his touch. "More, baby, I want you to come, oh, please, oh," she cried out, her voice rising sharply as he tugged her clit between his thumb and forefinger, his other hand groping for her breast to do the same. She raked her nails over his shoulder blades, then ran the thin edge of her thumbnail over his nipple, and he surged inside her, eliciting another sobbing, delighted cry.

"I want to," he mumbled, but then he pulled half out of her, grabbing her hands and leading them to her own breasts, and she squeezed them, flicking her nipples hard as Ned groaned and she was so wet that she could hear the sound of him driving into her and pulling out again, over and over, and she arched.

"So, so... oh God, please, so good," she begged him, tilting her head back, baring her neck as she teased her nipples. She sobbed, crying out at an especially hard thrust. "Ned, yes, yes, oh, oh," and she broke off, her moans and cries building.

"Oh, Nan, my God, baby," he choked out, holding her hips, and then she felt him tremble as he came. She let her hands drop and he collapsed to her chest, and she buried her hands in his hair, her face against his shoulder, pinned effortlessly under his weight.

"Mine," he whispered against her hair, his cock still between her thighs. She could feel something inside her clenching around him, even though she hadn't quite come, and he shifted, murmuring happily with each one.

"Mine," she whispered, lips brushing his skin. "Mine forever."


End file.
